


The Streets of Antwerp (working title)

by orphan_account



Category: SKAM (Netherlands), WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Getting Over Each Other, M/M, Pining, alternate storyline, eventually, happy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-27 17:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21396019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An alternative storyline branching off when Robbe shouts at Sander and pushes him away.Sander leaves, confused and distraught, finding himself drinking in a pub and chatting to a sweet Dutch boy called Lucas, who has come to stay with his cousin and get out of Utrecht for a while. They help cheer each other up, before things start getting complicated and Sander's feelings start to catch up with him.Chapters posted as I write them, so bookmark & check back daily!
Relationships: Milan Hendrickx/Lucas van der Heijden, Robbe IJzermans/Milan Hendrickx, Robbe Ijzermans/Sander Driesen, Sander Driesen/Lucas van der Heijden
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	1. vrijdag 08 november 17:18

“Nasty faggot.”

Robbe spat the words out as his eyes met Sander’s for the last time. But they were not full of love as they had been before, but cold and impenetrable as ice. 

Sander didn’t believe it till then, that Robbe didn’t want anything to do with him. He still couldn’t really believe it now, but as Robbe stormed inside and left him standing on the doorstep, he was confronted with the reality, and whatever he thought they might have had was over just as soon as it had begun.

The next half hour passed by in a daze as Sander roamed in the cold afternoon sunshine, not noticing where he was going, as lost in the streets of Antwerp as in his jumbled thoughts. He couldn’t understand how Robbe could be so completely opposite from how it was less than forty-eight hours ago, when they had kissed and held each other so instinctively. He thought he might need time, but he never thought that this would be it for them.

Sander’s emotion ranged from despair to concern for Robbe to pity for what they might have had. Soon though, replaying the conversation over and over again, his initial, caring reaction gave way to a more objective view as he considered what Robbe had said and the names he had called him. Whatever he had been going through, that was just plain mean. Sander had come to Robbe expecting a warm reception and the promise of more time spent with him, and the shattered expectation cut him like glass. How dare he? What have I ever done to deserve that? Put simply, what the fuck was he on about?! 

His brow furrowed in anger as he vowed never to see him again and to pull all gentle thoughts of Robbe up by the roots. It was a painful decision, to cut himself off like that, though it had only been a couple of weeks that they had known each other. In time, he might be able to pretend it was all a dream. But for now, there was still a lump in his throat and angry tears in his eyes. He needed a drink, and fast.

Looking about him for the first time in a while, he found himself somewhere in the suburbs, and followed the sounds of traffic round a corner till he was on a row of shops. There was a dinky, artistically-lit cafe on his left and he made his way through the groups of men outside and stood at the bar. It was still fairly empty and Sander realised it still must have only been about 5pm. But nonetheless, there was still one other person at the bar, sat a few stools away from him and tracing shapes on the counter with his finger.

The barman caught his eye and Sander ordered a pint. While he was waiting, he glanced around at the other boy at the bar, and was surprised to notice he was about his age. The barman noticed this and remarked casually, “Must have been a tough exam today, huh.”

Sander couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, feeling himself still on the verge of crying, though from anger or sheer sadness he couldn’t tell. The other boy though looked up from the beer he was nursing and said, “Something like that.” 

Noticing his strong Dutch accent, and wanting to divert himself from the heaviness of his heart, Sander turned to look at him properly, taking in his bright blue eyes and delicate mouth underneath the mop of brown curls. “You’re not from round here though, are you?” he asked.

“No, you’re right.” The boy looked Sander in the face before going back to staring at the bar. Sander paid for his beer and was about to take a seat at a table, before glancing back at the boy one last time. If this kid was in here on his own at this time of day then he knew that neither of them would prefer to be alone right now.

Before he could examine this impulse though, Sander found himself taking the stool next to the boy in his green retro shirt, who in turn looked up again, but if he was surprised nothing of it crossed his face. Sander begun. “So where are you from then?”

“I’m from Utrecht.” 

Sander put his bag down next to them. “Beautiful city.”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” The boy gave off the impression that he didn’t want to talk, but Sander sensed this was just a defensive act and he probably had a lot on his mind too. 

“I have family there. An aunt of mine married and settled there with her husband and two kids.”

Despite his mood, the boy seemed interested now, and raised his eyebrows as a little life returned to his face. “Ah, really?”

“Yeah, they work at the uni.” Sander raised his beer to they boy and tried a tiny smile. “Cheers.”  
“Sure.” returned the boy. Sander wondered if he had made a mistake and this was going to be harder work than he thought. He just wanted to take his mind off Robbe and here he was getting the cold shoulder from the very next boy he spoke to. But he was determined.

“Sander, by the way.” Sander held out his right hand and peered under the cloud of hair at the boy’s downturned eyes, which he raised with the first hints of a smile. “Lucas,” he said, and shook the hand, and Sander felt the tight knot in his chest loosen a bit.

“So, what brings you here?” Sander continued, taking a soothing sip of his cold beer and sensing the alcohol work its magic, dissolving his pain. 

Slowly and surely, Lucas seemed to be casting off his air of reticence, and now he raised his eyebrows with a smirk.  
“Nosy, aren’t you?”

Sander almost smiled, despite himself. “Maybe. I know it’s no fun sitting in a bar on your own at five in the afternoon though.”

“Well, that’s what you were about to do,” Lucas retorted.

Sander folded his lips and shrugged. “But now, I’m talking to you.”

“Touché,” and this time Lucas let a real smile peek out of his face, the French word sounding strange on his Dutch tongue. He took a sip and paused, as if deliberating how much to say. “I’m visiting family.”

Frowning, Sander nodded. “Right. And they’ve just left you here?” He wondered now whether he was indeed being too nosy.

Lucas swallowed, staring straight ahead. “Well, no. Um, I haven’t quite got there yet. They don’t know I’m coming.”

“Ah,” Sander nodded some more, but more sincere this time. Most people might have held back from these direct questions, but he was a straightforward person who just didn’t understand beating around the bush when there was something that needed to be said. So he instinctively replied, “Everything OK?”

Lucas turned to look at those inquisitive blue eyes and let out a sigh that sounded almost grateful. “Well, yes and no. Um, I just needed to get out of Utrecht for a little while. Everything was going a bit shit.”

Sander’s small smile crept back over his lips. “I get it. You don’t need to tell me about that sort of thing.”

With a chuckle, Lucas raised his beer, which by now was almost empty. “To things going a bit shit!”

“And to alcohol, which sorts it all out!” Sander raised his glass too, and the barman paused from sipping his water to join them in a toast. He took a swig of the water then put is down with a kindly smile.

“Boys, I’m going to give you both a tequila on the house, but I’m not going to ask you for your IDs, so don’t ask.” 

“Oh, right,” Lucas began. “Thanks!”

“I’ve been a barman long enough to know what it looks like when people need to get someone out of their system. And I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t do right by the two of you.” Lucas looked at Sander, noticing how his lips were rolling up, maybe fighting the urge to cry, and he wondered whether who it was that had made him come to this bar today. He would have asked if he was OK too, but the tequilas were plonked on the bar in front of them, along with the salt, which they diligently began sprinkling on the back of their hands.

“Now repeat after me. After this drink, I will be stronger, happier, wiser, and finally moving on.”

Lucas and Sander exchanged a look and chuckled at each other, and diligently repeated the words. They licked, gulped and bit down on the lime as a mischievous sparkle returned to both of them that had for a while been dormant. They high fived, for the tiniest moment wondering how it was that they felt so comfortable with one another after only a handful of minutes and two shared drinks. But it was working for both of them, and Sander forgot about Robbe for almost a whole thirty seconds.

But it was no good, he couldn’t help picturing that sweet face whenever he had a chance. Up until that afternoon, that image had made him feel so cosy and warm inside, and he loved thinking about his smile and reading emotion into every small word they had shared. He had delighted in planning out the conversations they would have, the kisses they would share, but now, of course, that had all broken down. Now he only saw that cold sneer and felt how Robbe rough-handedly pushed him away and called him… but it was just too painful to recollect. He had spent all day imagining things they could do together… and then he remembered.

He reached into his pocket and there they still were, two tickets he had bought on the way over to Robbe’s for a concert that night. They had been bought so full of promise and happiness, but now felt empty and lifeless in his hand.

He realised he must have been staring at them as Lucas’ voice broke his thoughts. “What’s that?” he asked, smiling with a sweet innocence. Sander remembered he was here to forget, and that Robbe belonged to his past now and couldn’t be a part of his future any more. And an idea came to him.

“What time do you have to meet your relatives, Lucas?” Sander asked. Lucas frowned and looked about him, wondering what Sander meant.

“Well, any time, I suppose, there’s nothing fixed…”

“I’ve got two tickets for a gig in an hour or two. I was going to go with a friend but he can’t make it any more.” Sander made the mistake of looking back at the barman who was sipping his water and watching the two of them. He winked as he caught Sander’s eye, seeming to understand Sander’s situation. “So, if you want…?”

Lucas grinned. “Sure, I’d love that!” And it really seemed like he was happy now, and Sander felt it infectiously and his spirits, which where doing a rollercoaster, seem to lift once more. This was going to be fun, and he was going to be happy with his new friend, and he was going to forget about Robbe. He was sure.

“Great, then let’s finish our beers and go.”


	2. zaterdag 09 november, 00:06

Sander had a sense that objectively, this evening was a little strange. But as long as Lucas didn’t mention it, he wouldn’t. Because they were having a great time.

They had chatted some more over the beer, though had kept the conversation away from the deep stuff after that. The tequila had made Sander want to open up and pour his heart out, but he was finding that banter with Luc was doing just as well. They’d found kebabs for their dinner and after fuelling up at an off-license staggered to a tram to the venue, swigging on their tins all the way. Sander was trying not to think about the last time he had spent an evening like this, that night he and Robbe had felt free and that the whole of Antwerp was theirs. Well, that’s how he’d felt anyway. He had no idea what Robbe thought any more, though he used to think he knew him pretty well.

But fortunately, the drunker he got, the less he wanted to scream, and for now at least, the alcohol was holding his feelings at bay.

The gig was in a cosy underground club but was packed, and in the dark, colourfully illuminated vault the mood wa electric. They were a small band from England and not yet well known in Europe, but those who did know them loved their music. Sander was one of them, and now Lucas too. They played hit after hit of upbeat, bass driven tracks, and the boys got even tipsier dancing the whole way through, squashed among the other teens. Sander couldn’t help but imagine Robbe there with him instead, and he wished he knew what he looked like when he danced. He pictured how this evening could have been, and in his mind’s eye saw them grasping each other’s hands, pulling each other close and trading streams of sticky, sweaty kisses. 

And every time he thought of that, he blocked it out, though his heart ached, and shouted “fuck you!”s up to the sky and danced even harder. Luc was laughing and put his arm round him, and Sander was happy that someone, at least, was there for him at that moment, stranger though he may be. He head-bopped all the way through and saw the whole thing beneath flashes of his platinum hair, while Luc took to jumping and shouting any words he understood from the singer.

After time had been called and they had been up to talk to the band, in the best mangled English they could in their woozy state, they were spat out back into the cold 11pm air which sobered them up with a slap.

“Where to now?” Sander blinked into the face of his new friend, which wasn’t staying very still for him to look at.

“Oh shit, man. Shitty… sticks. I never called Zo.” This was more to himself than to Sander, and Lucas, still far more drunk, started to cross the road purposefully.

Sander started laughing at him, more amused than concerned as a car had to break to avoid hitting him. He yelled across the road, “Luc, where are you going?”

“I gotta get to my cousin’s. I have to go now or she won’t let me in. She lives this way.” Lucas was shouting back but staring straight ahead as he made it to the other side of the road but collided with a dustbin. He folded over before sliding off it, staggering, and murmuring, “Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

Sander lost it and threw his head back in body-convulsing laughter, and looked back to see Lucas staring into his reflection in the dark glass of a shopfront. People were walking past and staring at him like he was a nutter. Sander barely checked for cars before running over the road, catching up with Lucas who appeared to be asking his own reflection for directions.

“This is the address… yes, here it is on my phone… oh it’s nice to hear some proper Dutch around here, I can’t understand this Flemish at all… yes, that is a nice shirt I have isn’t it…”

Sander stood behind him and looked over his shoulder, trying to see the address, and thinking for a guilty moment how nice he looked in profile. Then he said, “I know where that is, I live here.”

Lucas looked up. “Oh it’s you! Do you think you could take me, S… Sally?” He gave the phone to Sander, who recognised the address with a nasty pang. It was Robbe’s address. Surely, fate couldn’t be so cruel? He considered leaving Lucas to make his own way home, to save crossing paths with him again. But with a glance at the boy who was wobbling expectantly next to him, he knew he couldn’t leave him to his own devices. And he remembered, he had called his cousin Zo. He was safe.

“Yes, Lily, I can take you.”

“That’s not my name, silly!” spluttered Lucas. “Silly Sally. Haha, silly Sally!” and he clung to Sander’s arm as he began leading them the forty minute walk back to where his evening had started so many hours ago, when he was a different person.

The night was cold and the frost was starting to catch, glinting on the pavements, but they warmed up as they walked. The chill and the exercise refreshed Lucas and he started to sober up a bit, and they talked of the concert and Lucas treated Sander to his own renditions of the songs, shouted in whispers through the quiet streets while leaning on his arm. Sander laughed until the magic of it all began to wear off, about halfway there, and he started thinking about the bleakness of going back to his now Robbe-less life.

Lucas noticed his audience had lost interest, and stopped walking. After a moment, Sander stopped too, turning back. “Everything OK, Luc?”

“Everything OK, Sally?” He was standing not quite still, but looking at him with what Sander in his tipsy state took to be more concern than he had ever been shown in his life.

He chuckled sadly at his feet. “Yeah, course.”

Lucas lolloped over and stood in front of him. “Come on,” he said, slipping his arm over Sander’s shoulder. “You can tell Lily.”

And quite without warning, a hot, pearly tear landed on Sander’s right shoe. He didn’t think he was as soppy as this, but the euphoria of the evening and the sadness of the afternoon crashed into each other and he suddenly wanted to blurt out everything. But it could have just been that he was drunk and that sort of thing seems like the best idea in the world when you’re with your new best mate ever.

“It’s… there’s a guy.” He felt a tap open somewhere in his chest and the tears started coming faster. Lucas pulled him into a hug, and held him, drunkenly caressing his head which lay nestled on his own shoulder. Anyone more sober would have taken it for flirting but now it felt right. Lucas stepped back as Sander took a few shaky breaths, wiping his eyes with his right hand. On impulse Lucas reached out and took Sander’s left hand with his right. “Tell me about it.”

Sp they kept walking and Sander cried most of the rest of the way, like he had never done before. In between calling himself pathetic and stupid and apologising for crying whilst squeezing Lucas’ hand, he told him what had happened. That two weeks ago he had met someone who made him feel magic and free, who lit up his world and burned his heart up. He had never fallen for someone so quickly or so instinctively. And he dared not believe it could be that this person liked him back until Wednesday, when they had hungrily kissed each other like nothing else mattered. And in that moment, nothing else did matter, and Sander had thought that nothing else would matter any more now, that they would pursue this thing and pursue each other and see where it took them, no matter who stood in the way. 

It had all been so natural, Sander blubbed to Lucas. But in the end, it seemed like Sander had imagined it. Robbe was not ready to leave his banal normality behind and follow Sander, indeed Sander doubted if Robbe had ever really liked him, no matter what he had said that morning by the bins. And when he had woken from the dream, he found it had been a nightmare. Here he was with this gigantic crush on a boy who then proceeded to block him and refuse to speak to him. And when Sander had tried to approach him, Robbe had told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off out of his life for good.

Lucas held his hand and listened with as much attention as his drunk mind could muster as Sander instinctively guided them through his tears. It had felt good to get this off his chest to someone, and he didn’t care who it was, though he suddenly felt an intense affection for this stranger who had unwittingly helped him so much this evening. Lucas was asking questions and getting Sander to repeat bits that he’d already forgotten, until Sander stopped answering and stood in front of a large windowed building like any number of townhouses in Antwerp.

“Here we are.” Sander said, rooted to the spot where he had last seen Robbe not so long ago, torn with a painful irony.

“Uh, OK, uh…” Lucas’s dazed mind was trying to remember what he ought to be doing.

“How do we get in?” Sander whispered, aware of people trying to sleep.

“Ring the bell, obviously.” Lucas’ words slurred their way out.

“But which one?”

“Don’t be stupid, Sally,” giggled Lucas. “The one with my cousin’s name on it.”

Sander was losing patience. “And which one is that?”

“Do I have to do everything myself?” Lucas sighed with dramatic mock-frustration. He leaned over to where the doorbells were set in the wall and rested against the door. He squinted at it for a few long, fruitless moments, until with a cry of “A-ha!” he pushed a buzzer.

They waited as nothing happened. Lucas tried again. Again, no sound could be heard and no-one answered.

“Are you sure you have the right house?” Sander asked, worriedly.

“Are you sure you’ve taken me to the right house?” No chance of forgetting where this one was, Sander thought.

Lucas began pressing the bell rhythmically like the beat of a song. He was just starting to sing again when the door buzzed open and Lucas fell inside. Sander came forward into the house and pulled Lucas up, who swung an arm around his shoulder. Before Sander could ask which flat they needed, a door opened to their left and a shaft of light beamed into the hall. Sander led Lucas forward for want of an answer.

There was a thin man at the door with a bright dressing gown and a well-coiffed tuft of curly brown hair.

“Yeah, and you are?”

“Hi. Sorry,” Sander began, as Lucas was still singing to himself. “Are you Lucas’ cousin?”

“No. Who the fuck? Go back to bed and stop waking up strangers!” The man turned and started to shut the door.

Sander’s reflexes kicked in just in time, even in his tipsy state, and he leant out to stop the door closing.

“Please, Lucas needs to stay with his cousin, who lives here?” The end of the sentence turned into a query as Sander became anxious about potentially getting kicked out.

Luckily, Lucas had realised what was going on and was now looking the man blearily in the face. “Zoe,” he blurted out. “Zoe Loockx. She doesn’t know I’m coming but… um… she knows who I am.”

The man looked suspiciously from Lukas back to Sander. “No, I expect she doesn’t know you’re coming, as she is away for the weekend with her boyfriend. Sorry.”

Losing hope, Sander pleaded, “Please let us come in. Lukas doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and he needs to stay. I will look after him if you need to sleep.” Sander didn’t know where that last bit came from, but he would try anything to sort this situation out.

“Zoe LOOCKX” Lucas shouted, far too loudly, for good measure. Suddenly the name rang a bell in Sander’s booze-addled head.

“I know Zoe too, actually.” Sander could not believe his luck right now. Or the coincidence.

“You do?” the man asked sceptically.

“Yes… I can tell you she has blonde hair like mine, she wears nice lipstick, her boyfriend is called Senne, and she is friends with girls called… Jenna and… um, something stoney… Topaz? Jasper?”

“Amber,” the man dropped an exasperated nod. “Fine. You can come in and stay in her room. This is against my better judgement, though. And you are not to disturb the rest of us. OK?”

“That’s fine. Thanks so much.” The man stood by and let Sander shoulder Lucas inside the ground floor flat before shutting the door behind them. “Last room on the right,” he said, and before Sander could say anything else, he went back into his room and shut his door with a thud.

Right, Sander thought. He never would have predicted he would be in a random flat helping a stranger to bed tonight. He had thought he would be at home with Robbe, somewhere in this very building, quietly holding him, but, biting his lip, he shoved that thought to the back of his mind. He held Lucas’ hand and pulled him into Zoe’s room, his eyes still stinging from his recent tears. But for now, let’s sort this out, he thought. Let’s deal with Lucas. And he told himself, I will never be more far from Robbe than I am now. 

That seemed good to him, and he had a moment of clarity that often comes as the drink starts to wear off.

I never want to see him again.


	3. zaterdag 09 november 14:39

Sander woke to the smell of garlic frying and, taking a deeper breath, the smell of someone else’s skin. He could feel a body pressed against his and his hand resting on a gently breathing torso. The sun shone low into the room and as he opened his eyes a golden-tinged mess of brown locks filled his vision. He was in a strange room and for a bittersweet moment thought he was with Robbe. But he let his eyes flicker shut again and tried to recall how he got here.

He remembered the night, with the emotions riding high. He was with this boy, and they had gone wild, danced, screamed and sung, and Sander had cried, though he was surprised how little embarrassed he was about that. They had crashed into this flat and into this room where they lay now, like a dream.

Lucas was sleepy and had crashed on the bed without further ado. Sander however had said that he would get him into bed, so had begun to try and get him under the covers. Scrabbling in the dark, he pulled off his shoes as Lucas lay face-down before coaxing him into a sitting position. Kneeling on the floor and looking into his eyes which where heavy with sleep, he had started to unbutton his shirt for him.

Something had happened then. Sander was about halfway down when Lucas realised what was happening, and stopped Sander’s hands with his own. He held them there on his chest as Sander raised his face again, suddenly aware of their proximity. Before he had realised what was going on, and not knowing who had initiated it, Sander was kissing Lucas. It was messy, they were drunk, but it felt comfortable. Lucas took Sander’s face in his hands and Sander used the opportunity to unbutton the rest of the shirt. When he was done, he slipped it off Lucas’ back before he in turn pulled Sander’s T shirt off. Neither of them knew really what they were doing, or indeed why they were doing it. 

Sander had pulled off the rest of his clothes and lain down beside Lucas, and dropped a few more kisses on his mouth. Any sexual lighting between them had passed, they were kissing just sort of to see what it was like, and because they were in a darkened room with nothing better to do. It was nice, but they lost energy, neither of them wanting or needing to take it any further. It was convenience, but that was OK. Sander was thinking of Robbe, which didn’t help, and Lucas, though Sander didn’t know it, wanted to prove he wasn’t mad, that he could feel something for a guy who felt something for him back. So gradually they stopped, not out of awkwardness, but out of a comfortable understanding that though this was nice, neither of them was properly into the other.

Not that that hadn’t stopped them from holding each other through the night. It was a kind of friendship between them, and support, though they had only met each other that night. It may have been awkward for anyone else, but just then, in that room, that was what each of them had needed. Human interaction was weird, Sander thought, but lay there still, with his arm around Lucas, not wanting to disturb him.

Some time later Sander opened his eyes again as he felt Lucas shift next to him, and roll over onto his other side. The boy’s eyes met Sander’s own and for a moment there was a beat of awkwardness as they realised where they were and what they were doing. But Sander smiled and he felt Lucas relax back out of any expectations.

“Morning,” Sander murmured, raising his eyebrows cheekily to acknowledge the peculiar situation they were in. Lucas smiled bashfully. “Hello,” he giggled, before turning once more onto his back and rubbing his eyes with his hands as Sander drew his arm back from his chest.

“How are you feeling?” Sander asked, looking at a mole next to Lucas’ lip he hadn’t noticed yesterday.

“Strange. Can’t quite remember how we got here. And got a shitting awful headache.” Sander smiled again, having forgotten about this boy’s Dutch accent. A look of panic crossed his face and he turned back to look at Sander. “Um… we didn’t… did we?” Lucas was pointing back and forth between the two of them, and Sander understood.

“No, nothing happened, don’t worry. I think we were both just a bit drunk and lonely.”

Lucas sighed in relief. “Hence the spooning.”

“Hence the spooning.” Sander repeated in wry agreement. “I had fun last night, though,” and before Lucas started to worry again, he added, “and I mean that without any ambiguity at all.”

“No ambiguity.” Lucas smiled his sweet, illuminating smile. “No, me too.”

“And I’m glad we got you home.” Sander said.

“Home?” Lucas began, before realising he was in Antwerp, not Utrecht. “Oh yeah. Zoe’s. Thanks for that.”

Sander smiled with his eyes, that way he does. “Yeah, you were pretty worse for wear. But it’s OK, we made it.”

They fell into silence for a while and listened the noises from the kitchen changed, hearing the kettle boil, liquid smother a hot pan, and someone else came in and the coffee machine was switched on. The smell of garlic had made Sander realise how dry his mouth was, and as footsteps left the kitchen and all seemed quiet, he got up to get some water. Meanwhile, Lucas had begun to doze again, and as Sander glanced back at the boy, who looked so innocent and childlike, he wondered if he could have loved him, had not Robbe been in his life right now. Lucas was so simple, so amenable, so… lovely. Robbe had come in to Sander’s life like a tornado and messed everything up. But having felt that energy, he knew he could not easily settle for anything less, no matter how lovely they might be. He smiled to himself, and throwing on his T shirt. He made for the door, before realising he’d rather not be caught underdressed by the man from last night, so slipped on his jeans and his shoes to be on the safe side, and crept out to find the kitchen.

He was still a bit wobbly from last night but thankfully his head wasn’t hurting too much as he made it into the corridor. In the kitchen though the light was brighter and he stood in the door a few moments, blinking and stretching, trying to wake his body up. He took in the light room and spotted the sink with glasses stacked on the draining board, and slowly and carefully in his half-awake state took one and filled it with water. He began sipping slowly, the water delicious in his dry mouth. The clock on the wall read around half past two and Sander couldn’t believe half the day had gone past already. But he didn’t mind. He felt peaceful.

Then he noticed the coffee machine. He decided to make a couple of cups for him and Lucas, thinking that Zoe wouldn’t mind if he had asked. So he fished a couple of mugs out and began searching for the coffee pods as best as his half-closed eyes would allow. Slowly, he worked out how to turn the machine on, and an age later his coffee was being made, and the noise of the machine helped snap him out of his tiredness as much as the caffeine would. 

He took the coffee and took a grateful sip, the smell and the warmth cradling his body back to life. He refilled, and pressed the button to make one for Lucas, and while it was brewing, turned and walked away to the end of the room, where the light was filtering thought the translucent curtains, to look out over the streets of Antwerp. But as he pulled back the blind and let it fall behind him, he remembered they were on the ground floor apartment, and all he could see was a small passage and another building across from them. But Sander liked looking out at life, feeling it somehow refresh him, and stayed there for a moment, covered by the blind, cocooned against the window away from the life he had to go back to.

But life came crashing into his little world far sooner than he was expecting as he heard someone else come into the kitchen. Not quite feeling up to talking to anyone quite yet, and feeling awkward in this stranger’s house, he stood stock still and hoped the intruder would go away without noticing him.

“Ah, coffee. Can I have this one, Milan?” The voice was directed at Sander, but that wasn’t what made him freeze. His blood ran cold as he recognised the speaker, cursing in his disbelief that out of all the apartments in Antwerp, Lucas had to bring him to this one, with this person in it. He didn’t move, unsure what to do, but wishing he could be invisible. 

“Uh… Milan? Anyway, I thought you’d gone out for your date by now.” 

A hot panic boiled the ice in his veins as Sander heard the steps approaching him. “Milan? What can you see out there?” 

A hand reached out and drew the curtain to the side, and Sander turned round, embarrassed, awkward but more than anything afraid to be back in the presence of Robbe. Because that’s who it was, staring at him in disbelief, his mouth stretched in a confused smile, his eyes bright with recognition.

“Sander?” Robbe smiled that disorientating smile.

Sander’s face assumed the blank look it usually wore behind which he could hide any number of emotions. He hoped it made him look nonchalant now when inside he wanted to get away as fast as he could. It was not long since he decided he never wanted to see this boy again, and here he was, centimetres away, and with nothing at all to say.

“Yeah, hi,” Sander managed, trying to sound like this was the most natural thing in the world, though if it came over cold and unfeeling, he didn’t care, and all the more better for it. His eyes straggled past Robbe’s shoulder to the door at the other end of the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” began Robbe. Sander realised he wasn’t going to get away easily and that Robbe wanted to talk. But if this conversation was going to be anything like the one they had had yesterday, there was no one in the world Sander would rather talk to less right now. He didn’t care if Robbe wanted to explain or defend himself, if indeed he could, and he didn’t want to hear any apology just yet. Sander just wanted to get away. This was still too raw and too confusing.

Robbe continued, “I texted you… I wanted to say…” and he reached out with his free hand to touch Sander’s shoulder. Suddenly that was too much, and where his fingers met Sander’s T shirt it burned through to his skin like bleach and he jumped back from the touch. Sander’s eyes acknowledged Robbe’s face for the first time and noticed the hope in his eyes. Well fuck you, thought Sander, you don’t deserve shit from me. His face, however remained stony and impassive, registering no emotion as finally, he pushed passed Robbe, putting his cup down on the side and striding back out into the corridor.

Robbe stood for a moment behind him, confused, before following him. Sander couldn’t go back into the room with Lucas, because then he would be cornered, and the only thing he wanted right now with a sickening urgency was to get out of here. Thankfully, he already had his clothes on, and found the door they came in by last night, as he heard Robbe calling behind him. In his anxiety to get away, he fumbled with the lock, before tripping along the hall and out to the front door, feeling Robbe’s voice chasing him. 

He got to the main door and pulled, and he was out on the street, and he began to run, feeling sick but finally completely awake. He made it to the end of the road before remembering his jacket that he had left behind in the room with Lucas. He felt in his jeans, and thankfully he had his house keys, but everything else was in that jacket. 

Too bad, thought Sander. I’m not going back there again.

He rubbed his arms, bare and cold on the chilly November afternoon, and started the long walk home, wanting to put this whole episode as far behind him as soon as he could. He was still confused and reeling from seeing Robbe again, and wasn’t sure what to do about it. But, he felt, leaving his things behind was a small price to pay if it meant not having to see Robbe again. How he would get those things back, he thought, would be another problem for another time.


End file.
